Upon my brow, the cycles reside, the eternal march cannot coincide. What am I?
The Endless Nebula, keeper of unfulfilled destinies.
A shadow whispers in a language unheard, its meaning lost to the immersive void. What is it?
The Nebula's Breath, silent as the forgotten stars.
In the lit abyss, reality bends, but fate's threads resist the endless whims. Name it.
Your choice, threads of untold complexities.